


Stuck on a Puzzle

by melancholicmermaid



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, R plus L equals J
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-16 01:51:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melancholicmermaid/pseuds/melancholicmermaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon Snow and Sansa Stark navigate Westeros, where the blue bloods prevail, the elites are above law, and murder, intrigue and romance reign.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am assuming R + L = J but Lyanna was Ned's best friend not sister.  
> Westeros, here, is a tiny island with constitutional monarchy. So Robert is still King, all the great houses lords are dukes, earls etc, but they don't have absolute power, it's mostly titular. Ned Stark , for example, is Duke of Winterfell, but also runs an environmental law type firm.  
> The first chapter is just to get the romance and angst kick-started. :)

 “So are we going?”

Jon turned and looked at Robb sitting next to him with a shocked look, “Obviously not.”

Theon interjected just then, “Yes, yes we are. I spent an hour getting ready!”

“Why would you want to go to some lame party with lame people? They’ll probably play shitty music and get wasted.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly why.”

Jon shook his head slightly, and turned his attention back to the game where Robb had taken advantage of his momentary distraction and hacked his arm off.

“Thanks, Robb.”

“And…you are welcome,” he replied as cut off Jon’s head with a sharp swing.

Jon rolled his eyes just as Sansa glided in and gracefully kissed Robb on the cheek.

“Congrats, Robb." 

“Hey, Happy Birthday! Where were you last night, we left messages.”

“Just celebrating with my friends. Anyway, I have to leave soon. But I’ll see you at the party, yeah.”

Jon stared at Sansa’s hair. It almost reached down to her waist. He really had not seen her in a long time. She gave him a small smile as he wished her, and then turned to Theon.

“Where are you going now?” Robb asked her, as she turned to leave.

“Marg is gonna dress me up for the party, so just stopping by her place.”

“Yeah, we have to go,” he drawled as she shut the door behind her, “I don’t trust Margaery Tyrell.”

Jon sighed.

*

Party! Jon groaned internally as he entered the hall. Loud music, writhing bodies, screams, laughter, and so many people. He wondered how Sansa knew so many people. Though, he supposed, it was not that farfetched, she had always been one of the popular kids.

“Oh God. What is she wearing?!”                      

Jon followed Robb’s gaze to Sansa. 

“I know, right! She should dress like this everyday. So hot, I feel like her boobs might pop out of that dress any minute. Fingers crossed, huh!?” Theon grinned stupidly at them.

Jon knew it was coming before it happened as Robb punched Theon’s grin right off.

“FUCK! You broke my face!”

“That was the intention! You watch your mouth, she is like a sister to you!”

Jon shifted his attention back to Sansa. She smiled slightly at him, those were the only kind of smiles they shared, slight ones. She went to Robb straight, put her arms around his neck, rested her pretty head on his shoulders, and looked at him with all the affection in the world. Sansa did this a lot with people she loved. He had grown up seeing this special hug being flowered on her parents, and her brothers, even Arya when the latter allowed it. She had never once hugged him like that. When he was younger, he used to wait breathlessly for it; this act would signal her acceptance of him in the family. But it never came. Even today, after she is done with Robb, and comes to hug him, all she does is whisper in his ear.

“I am surprised you graced such lame people with your presence.”

He wants to say something, not sure what, but something, but then she is already at Theon’s side, giggling madly about something.

Wait, was Theon sniffing her hair!?

He blinked, and she was gone. She had disappeared into thin air.

“Where did she go?” he said looking around.

“There,” said Robb, pointing angrily.

She was with the crown prince himself. When Sansa had started dating Joffrey a couple of years back, it had not been much of a surprise. She was the Duke’s daughter, and Ned and Robert were such good friends. But the more Jon came to know of Joffrey, the less he liked him. He was an arrogant prick, to put it delicately. Robb shared this view with him, and so it wasn’t surprising that when they saw Sansa making out with him, he turned to leave angrily.

“You stay here, she’d be disappointed if all of us left.  Just look after her, okay.”

Fat chance she’d notice them missing, she was surrounded by friends, and of course, she had Joffrey to distract her.

“Why can’t Theon look after her?”

Robb gave him a disgusted look and left.

 “Right.”

Jon looked around and saw Theon wasn’t even listening, he was off talking, no, flirting probably, with some girl. Jon was already getting restless. He didn’t belong in these places. He was willing to bet that 90% of these kids were nobility, and the rest ridiculously ambitious rich kids like the Tyrells. There were a lot of pretty girls, but they were probably all stuck up brats. Not that it mattered; he had a girlfriend, and even if it was long distance, he wasn’t gonna partake in a casual hook up.

He decided to grab a beer, if he was gonna survive this ordeal, he needed it.

*

After his fifth beer, he thought he should check up on Sansa. Wasn’t that the whole reason he was stuck here? To take care of her. He had to look for a while but he finally found her alone in a corner. Her hair was a mess, her eyes were dazed, and she was moving slightly to the music, not the crappy music that was playing, but probably something different that was playing in her mind, something softer, slower. He looked at her for a while. He thought she must be the most beautiful girl in the world.

He was not the only one who thought so, apparently, as a tall man with a half burnt of face came over to her side. Sansa seemed to know him, but Jon reacted instinctively, and followed him, cutting into their conversation. The man, Sandor, he called himself, left shortly. They stood in silence for a while. He was thinking of something to say when he spotted something shiny dangling into her cleavage.

“Is that the royal crest?”

“Yes, Joffrey gave it to me. It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

Jon looked at her face shining with happiness.

“Yeah, very pretty.”

She looked up at him and gave him a big smile.

“I think he means to marry me someday. And then I’ll be Queen. It’s all I ever wanted. Everything is so perfect.”

Jon didn’t know what to say to that. How could she not see beyond Joffrey’s title? He was the worst.

She continued talking, saving him from the need to reply.

“Hey, where is Robb!? I have to tell him a secret! Myrcella has a crush on him! How cute is that!?”

“Yeah, um, that’s something, I guess. Are you fine? Also, how long will the party go on? Can’t we just leave.”

That was apparently not the right thing to say. She looked angry. “You can leave if you want. I mean, it’s not like you were even invited.”

*

He grabbed an inebriated Theon and left. Robb had been sensible enough to send the chauffeur. Both of them were quiet on the way home, distracted by their thoughts.

*

Dawn came over winterfell and sneaked into the Stark house. Jon Snow was dreaming. He dreamed of Ygritte, with her hair kissed by hair. You know nothing, Jon Snow, she whispered in his ear. He buried his face in her hair, tracing kisses down her neck. But then he noticed that the hair was slightly darker, and when he looked up, it wasn’t Ygritte’s face at all. Jon Snow woke up.

He sat in the bathtub, several cold showers later, he still couldn’t get the image out of his mind. Confused and embarrassed and angry at himself, he texted Ygritte.

I need to meet you.

He got a reply back so quick, he wondered if she had sent it before he even texted.

I will be at your house at 2. Keep a fancy lunch ready.

Jon smiled to himself and got up. Everything was gonna be fine. It had just been a stupid dream.

*

“This is good.”

Jon looked at Ygritte next to him, wolfing down her food. “I am happy you came.”

“Yeah, of course, I missed you so much! But I meant to ask, how come you texted me all of a sudden? What happened to giving you some space or whatever bullshit it was that you spouted last time?”

So she still remembered that.

“I just really missed you too. I wish you lived near.”

“Yeah, no thank you. I doubt I’d fit in with all the blue bloods around here. Listen,” she said putting down her fork, “move in with me.”

“What?”

“Come on, Jon Snow. Do you really wanna spend the rest of your life here? What you gonna do around here? Assist Lord Robb Stark in running an estate? You’ll never become yourself till you are stuck living here.”

“This is my family!”

“No, it’s not. But you could have your own family, with me. Come with me. Let’s leave right now.”

He looked at her earnest face. He could do it, couldn’t he? It wouldn’t be so bad. For a minisecond, he considered it. But, no. No, he couldn’t.

His face seemed to have answered her question.

*

He next spoke to Sansa a week later. She had spent the entire week in her wing, not even venturing out for dinner or to visit her friends. It was unlike her, but Robb didn’t seem concerned, in fact he was happy that she wasn’t spending all her time at her friend’s house like she used to whenever Ned and Cat were away. They were gone for almost a month now, Cat accompanying Ned on some climate change summit. Sansa came to them a Sunday morning when he was sitting with Robb and Arya , watching football.

 “What are you guys doing? Can I join?”

“I doubt it’d interest you.” Arya replied.

She sat herself down between him and Robb and snatched the remote away from Arya.

“We can always watch something else.”

“No! Ugh, you are the only stupid one in this family, no one else here is gonna like your crap. I am NOT sitting and watching Downton Abbey or whatever. Just use the TV in your own room.”

Sansa suddenly got up and threw the remote away. “I just wanted to spend some time with you! But if that’s how everyone feels, I guess I am better off alone,” she said as she walked out angrily, tears welling up her eyes.

Sansa and Arya fought a lot. Jon didn’t know when it had started for he remembered a time when they were pretty close, but yeah, those days were long gone. But it was surprising that their bickering would leave Sansa in tears.

 Robb probably had the same thought. “Arya, you shouldn’t have done that. Pretty rude.”

Arya told him to shut up but she did look slightly uncomfortable.

Robb sighed slightly, “I guess one of us should go check on her.”

“I’ll do it.”

They both stared at him, surprised at the quick reply.  He just shrugged, and went looking for Sansa. He found her on a staircase with Lady, crying softly into the wolf’s fur.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing here?” She said, looking up at him .

“Why are you crying?

“It’s kind of you to ask, but I’d rather not say.”

She wiped away her tears and stared at him.

“Look, I know something is up, you didn’t leave the house for a week. Did you have a fight with your friends or something? Because I am sure things will be fine.”

“Why does it always have to come down to my friends?  Maybe I was just really lonely and I wanted to spend some time with my family. None of whom seem to care about me. I feel like a stranger in my own bloody house. I have 3 brothers, and a sister who’d rather she was a boy, and then there’s you, and there’s Theon, and I am literally the odd man out. I feel so different, and alienated. And god, I hate it. I mean, I can’t change who I am just so my family wants to spend more time with me, can I? Is that how terrible things have gotten?”

Jon looked at her, stunned. He never in his wildest imagination would have thought of Sansa as the misfit ever. She was the perfect one, the one with everything. She was the one you looked at and wondered how anyone’s life could be so beautiful. The fact that she was insecure seemed so strange to him, and yet it made him feel oddly guilty.

“Oh Sansa, I don’t think anyone wants that. Everyone here loves you so much.”

“Not really. It’s funny, isn’t it, you are not really even a part of this family, and yet they love you so much more. It’s really not fair.”

He stared at her cold eyes, rimmed red. He thought it was ironic that she was the one crying and he comforting because in the moment she was an ice queen, cutting him with her shards.

“I am sorry you feel that way.”

He turned and walked away. She was right, not about them loving him more, because he was certain they didn’t, but about him not being a part of the family. Ygritte had given him a chance, hadn’t she? But he had thrown it away. He got on his bike, and tried to keep his thoughts afar. None of them had ever said it before, but he had often wondered if they felt it. He knew Cat resented him living with them, but she had never said it aloud. Not like Sansa just did.

He heard someone call his name. He slowed down and turned around slightly. It was dark but he saw a car approaching. Theon’s car. Sansa was in there, shouting his name. She was indicating him to stop but he just pedalled faster, angry at her still. What did she want now?

“Theon, crash into him. Come on, just a little.”

“WHAT!? ARE YOU MAD!? NOW YOU WANT ME TO DIE!?”

“Nope, I just want him to slightly bruise you. Or a minor injury at the most. Theon, just nudge his bike a little.”

Jon stopped the bike and got down in a fury. She couldn’t just-

She climbed out of the car and ran to him. Before he could say a word, she had crashed into him, engulfing him into her famous hug, her arms around his neck, and her cheek on his shoulder, and she whispered into his ears.

“I am so sorry. I am a foolish little girl. I was just so jealous and unhappy, but that is no excuse.”

She extracted herself from him. Jon noticed his arms were encircling her waist, when had he done that?

“Will you forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive.”

He smiled at her slightly. He was happy, it sucked that this was all it took, but he was back to being that hungry child, craving her affection.

“Anyway, now that you are done being emo- “

“Hey!”

She laughed and took his arm, “Do you wanna come cruisin’ with me and Theon? We got some weed, and plenty of alcohol.”

“Drinking and Driving, huh? That sounds appealing. Also, since when are you into taking such rash actions?”

“Since I realised my life isn’t really precious.”

Jon looked at her. Something must have definitely happened. Before he could ask what, she continued, “Come on! Only around Winterfell, there isn’t another soul here, and Theon is an expert drunk driver.” She beamed up at him, bouncing on her feet. He was glad to see her back to her usual cheerful self, so he couldn’t find the heart to refuse.

“Okay. But I’ll drive, and I won’t be drinking.”

*

“Let’s go to the shore! I miss the sea.”

“You miss the sea?”

“Yeah, I miss the sea. Pleaaase, let’s just stop by for a while.”

Jon looked at her, smiling at him, her big blues eyes fervent with anticipation.

“Okay.”

“Cool, so we can smoke up there. Theon, start rolling the joints.”

“Already onto it.”

Jon turned and saw Theon lying on the backseat with his legs outstretched. He was so drunk, Jon was surprised he hadn’t passed out. Sansa had also finished off a bottle of red, and started on another. She was sitting next to him, her bare feet resting on the dashboard. He tried not to think about how long her legs looked in those shorts, or how cute she looked cradling the wine bottle. He tried and he failed. A part of him felt guilt, but most of it was thoroughly confused. Where had these thoughts come from!? She is like your sister, Jon. But she isn’t, the other voice claimed, she was never really like your sister. Finally, Jon had to accept that maybe he just found her attractive, and that it couldn’t be helped, because she _is_ attractive, and maybe he should just let it go, and not over think it. It’s not like anything would come of it.

*

“SPIN THE BOTTLE!” Theon shouted.

“There’s just three of us!”

“How about Truth and Dare?”

“So we are 12 now?”

“Just you mentally, Theon.”

Jon reached forward and clumsily (he did drink in the end!) turned the bottle. It pointed at Sansa.

“Um, truth.”

“Who is your favourite sibling?”

“Theon! That’s a mean question! I like all of them.”

“Sure you do. Don’t worry, Jon won’t feel bad.”

Jon muttered, “I am not her sibling” the exact moment Sansa shouted, “He is not my sibling!” They looked at each other uncomfortably for a second, but Sansa quickly smiled and said, “Robb. I love him more than anyone, save mother, father and Lady, of course!”

“Really? Your wolf is at the top of the list.”

Jon wasn’t that shocked, however. He understood it.

“Ghost would top my list.” 

She looked pleased to hear that, and earlier awkwardness forgotten, she came and sat next to him, slipping her hand around his arm and leaning against him. He placed a soft kiss on her head, and couldn’t help but think her hair had a lovely floral scent to it, reminding him of summer. They played again, and Theon chose Dare, loudly proclaiming that he wasn’t wimpy enough for Truths. They dared him to take off his clothes and swim in the freezing water.

“Assholes,” he swore as he jumped into the water, and Jon and Sansa rolled around with laughter.

“Sansa?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember when we were kids, and you caught Theon swearing and you were so shocked and furious and you claimed you’d tell Catleyn?”

“Profanity is not allowed in this house. Swearing is for lowlifes. I am gonna tell mother,” mimicked Theon, as he came back shivering and trying to put his pants back on. “I hated you, then! So annoying.”

“Shut up, you guys! I was a kid! Ugh, thanks for reminding me of what a prude I was. And anyway, I didn’t actually tell her, did I!?”

“Yeah, but only because we bribed you with lemoncakes. And you are still prissy, don’t pretend otherwise. I haven’t forgotten the lecture you gave me for wearing that kraken tie to the gala. Oh look, it’s on you, Jon! Be a man and pick a dare, yeah.”

“Yeah, that’s the universal conditionality for being a man.” Jon replied sarcastically before picking Truth.

“How many times have you fucked that redhead of yours?”

“Theon!” Sansa exclaimed, “that’s a gross and invasive question!”

“I didn’t mean you, Sansa. I meant that wild girlfriend of his. And see, you are still stuffy as hell!”

“That’s not even funny.”

“Yeah, I am not answering that Theon.”

“Yeah, let me ask him a question!”

“Will do.” Jon replied smiling.

“Do you love her?”

No, Jon wanted to say, no, he didn’t love her. He must not have, otherwise wouldn’t he have left with her. Instead, he just sighed, and said they had broken up last week.

“Oh honey! That’s so sad, it’s probably for the best though, also, you know, mother never liked her, but yeah, it’s really sad. Are you doing fine!? You should totally drink more. It might help.”

“That’s awesome, dude! You are single. You can pick up girls with me now. With Robb, you and I working together, not a single girl in this place will be left untapped, baby! This is time for celebration! I propose more alcohol.”

“Fuck you, Theon!” For what seemed like the hundredth time, Jon wondered why he was friends with Theon. But both he and Sansa were drunk, so he could forgive their less than satisfactory remarks. Seeing as they were drinking even more (Sansa on her third beer, and he knew for a fact that she didn’t even like beer), he turned the bottle to divert their attention, and wondered how he would get them home in this state. He wasn’t all that sober either.

“Oh, it’s on me is it!? Okay, um, Dare! Because I am drunk enough, ha!”  Sansa exclaimed.

“Make out with one of us,” Theon said, without missing a beat. Jon wondered how long he had waited with this at the tip of his tongue. “Don’t be absurd, Theon. Perhaps we should just go-“

Jon stopped suddenly, his heart beating so loudly he could almost hear it, as Sansa turned towards him with a look he had never seen on her before.  She sat on his lap, and wrapped her hands around his neck. He had never been this close to her before.  He was vaguely aware of Theon muttering things like, “Hell, did not see that coming!” and “Maybe she just pities you because of the break up.” Jon looked at her and whispered, “Sansa, no, you are drunk.” He said it so softly he wondered if she even heard him. He tried to pull away, but when she moved one of her legs and straddled him, he instead pulled her against him, and covered her mouth with his in a hungry kiss. For a second she hesitated, and he thought she might not return the kiss, but then she gave him a small smile, and continued kissing him. She tasted like clove cigarettes and wine, and he pressed her closer to himself, his hands under her sweater gripping the curve of her waist. He didn’t know how long they kissed, but then Theon was telling him to stop. That she was drunk. When they pulled away, he felt it was over too soon. He wanted to do this for the rest of his life.

She didn’t say anything to him, simply standing up and smoking for a while. Jon could fill the guilt trickle in and he tried not to think about it. 

“I am gonna call Robb. He’ll come pick us up.” She finally said.

*

When Robb came he didn’t seem pleased, and Arya had come along, too. She gave Jon an accusatory look, as soon as she reached them. “What are you doing hanging out with her!? Why didn’t you call me!!”

“Maybe he just likes my company, Arya. Did you ever about that!?”

“Shut up! All you ever do is ignore him. And he thinks you are a stupid airhead.”

“I don’t!” Jon said, quickly.

“Yes, you told me yourself. You said it when you told me you were glad I am nothing like Sansa.”

Jon couldn’t even look up and face Sansa. He had said that. It was when Catleyn had shouted at Arya to be more like Sansa, and he was trying to comfort her.

When he finally looked up at her, she wore a blank face.

“Well, clearly you don’t think very highly of me. I am glad at least that didn’t stop you from making out with me.”

She walked away. Jon made a movement to go after her. To apologize, he wanted to tell her, he didn’t mean it. Not really, anyway.

But Robb stopped him, and he had never seen him this angry with him before.

“She is drunk! How could you take advantage of her like that!?” he asked Jon furiously.

“It wasn’t like that.”

“You have a girlfriend.”

“We broke up.”

“So you thought of using my sister as a rebound?”

Jon had never fought with Robb. They always got along great. He didn’t know what to say.

“You can find your own way back home. Arya, come, we are leaving.”

“No, I am coming with Jon.” She said, slipping her hand into his.

Robb looked like he would like to argue, but Sansa had already disappeared around the bend, so after giving Jon one last look of disgust he ran after her.

“Wow. I don’t even know what just happened, but we better get a move on.” Theon said as he started walking. Jon and Arya followed him.

“Arya, I-“

“I am sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t lie."

“Yes, but still. I was just so angry. Sansa has everything. I can tell Robb doesn’t love me like he loves her, even if he would never accept it. And everyone knows that mother wishes I were Sansa 2.0. She is the perfect daughter. But I always had you. I always thought I was your favourite sister, and so-“

“You are my favourite sister, Arya. You don’t have to worry about anything.” Jon said quietly, ruffling her short hair. He couldn’t help thinking, remembering his conversation with Sansa, that despite all their differences, Arya and Sansa shared similar insecurities.

“Did you really make out with Sansa?”

He didn’t answer.

“It’s okay. I know it must have been a mistake. I am just worried I might have to protect you from now on, because Robb is definitely gonna try and kill you.”

He laughed at that, but added softly, “Yeah, it was a mistake.” Even if it didn’t feel like one.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be from Sansa's POV and will explore what had turned her perfect world upside down, as well as get the plot started.  
> My Tumblr if you have any questions: http://melancholicmermaid.tumblr.com/


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention their age in the last chapter. I have significantly aged up the elder kids.  
> Robb, Jon, Theon, Margaery, Jeyne: 20  
> Sansa, Joffrey, Gendry, Aegon : 18  
> Arya: 13 Bran: 10 Rickon: 6

Sansa Stark woke up the next morning with a pounding headache, and a heavy heart.  Jumbled memories of last night attacked her, as she regained consciousness, but that wasn’t what clawed at her, she had already lost too much exactly a week before. She wasn’t sad because of the broken relationship with Joffrey, as much as she was for all that time wasted. She had planned _everything_.  And that day it wasn’t just their silly little relationship that broke apart, but all her dreams. When her past crashed, her future toppled along with it.

_And what about the present?_

Where would she escape from the present? She could cover up the ugly bruises on her arms but she feared they were etched deeper than her skin. She could feel it like heavy baggage weighing down her every step.

And then there was last night’s actions left to consider. Kissing Jon Snow had been a mistake. If she had just not let go, if she had just thought, ten thousand times, before acting. Now, she couldn’t even face her family. But she had been tired of meticulously planning everything just for it to crumble away. Of always doing the right, the well thought out thing. She just wanted to be reckless for a while. And it had been nice.

No, thought Sansa. She couldn’t think like that. Jon Snow thought of her as nothing more than a nuisance. And why would he kiss someone he didn’t even like!? Oh, she was being naïve again. Nobody cared about such things anymore. 

Well, she couldn’t sit in bed and sulk all day long. She had an important task ahead.

_I must be brave._

*

An hour later, Sansa put the pen down, and was certain she was suffering from carpal tunnel. She was just sitting, staring sadly at her desk, till she heard a knock on her door. She quickly jumped up and pulled the sweater over her dress to hide the purple bruises, just as Robb entered.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

He looked at her for a while before sighing, “Do you wanna talk about it? About, um, you know, last night?”

She gave a fake little laugh, and waved her hand, “It was nothing. I was drunk. I barely even remember what happened.”

Robb didn’t look convinced, but thankfully he didn’t press her for more details.

“So what were you doing?”

“Writing Thank-you notes. You know for the birthday gifts and everything.”

“But that’s quite a pile! Couldn’t you just buy some printed ones, or you know, not bother with it?” he said, looking shocked.

No, she couldn’t just buy “printed ones”, she had especially selected this thick creamy monogrammed stationary, and had to lovingly scrawl on the note. Usually, this would have been a relaxing activity, but now, it just made her want to shriek. Still..

“That’s not quite the same as a hand-written note, is it?” She saved him the need to answer by prompting, “So why are you here?”

“It’s nine. You need to come down for breakfast.”

So he had rightly suspected that she would try and skip that lovely family affair.

“I am late for tennis practice. I’ll just eat at the club.” She smiled, and returned back to writing the note in a painfully elegant handwriting. He went after a while, and she finally looked up. She couldn’t finish it today. Not today, she’ll give herself some time.

Sansa entered her wardrobe, looking for her tennis outfit. The cute clothes were the only reason she had taken up tennis in the first place. And she still wasn’t all that fond of it, but she really didn’t want to face Jon and everyone, so she might as well follow her own lie. She shifted through all her ballet clothes before spotting a tennis dress. While she may not like tennis, she loved ballet. She had shocked all of her friends when she chose ballet over cheerleading. After Margaery had left, they had all thought Sansa would be the new head cheerleader. She broke down a little at the thought of her former best friend. It had taken Margaery exactly 12 hours to start going out with Joffrey after the..well, she couldn’t think of it. She wouldn’t.

*

 Sansa had just ordered her breakfast when someone gently tapped her on the shoulder. Turning around, she saw Petyr Baelish smiling at her.

“May I join you? I, also, find myself alone on this beautiful morning.”

She really would have preferred to be alone, but it wouldn’t be right to be rude to someone just for selfish reasons.  And she knew Petyr Baelish used to be friends with her mother.

“Of course, Mr. Baelish,” she said, giving him a smile.

“Call me Petyr.”

They settled into a companionable conversation, until the topic turned to university, and he fixed her with a curious glance.

“What are you planning on studying?”

Sansa had given this a lot of thought, so she replied quickly, “I am thinking of majoring in English Lit, with a minor in either History of Fashion or Cinema Studies. I can’t make up my mind. They are such interesting subjects.”

He looked slightly disappointed at her answer, as if he expected better, and soon enough, he pressed, “That’s great, but aren’t you considering law or business or something along those lines? I know you brother is studying law. He already works with your father, doesn’t he?”

“Well, yes. He was always gonna get into the family business, but I am really not that inclined towards…” she trailed off.

“Okay. But you’re still so young; you shouldn’t make any rash decisions.”

Sansa didn’t know what to say to that, but he continued staring at her.

“You look so much like your mother. It drags me to the past, sitting here with you. The Tullys always had a prominent look.”

Petyr looked down then, staring at his entwined hands, “Sansa, I see so much potential in you. Can I make you a proposition?”

*

Sansa changed into her tennis dress, and made her way out to the court. She played a couple of sets, and was already bored. As she retired to drink some water, she smiled at her instructor. He was actually her classmate, a scholarship kid from Flea Bottom, the downmarket area of Westeros. She didn’t remember his name, but she knew he was always hanging about with her younger sister. Just so she didn’t have to start playing again, she moved over to strike a conversation with him.

“Hey.”

He looked startled to be spoken to, and just nodded at her.

“Why don’t you ever talk to me?” Sansa asked before she could help herself.

“Um, I didn’t think you even noticed my existence,” he said, while examining his shoes.

“How can that be true? You are always with my sister. I have seen you like a dozen times at home.”

“And we were in the same year. I am surprised to find you alone..oh look, there they are. I was wondering how you aren’t with your group of friends trailing behind you,” he said, smiling a little.

Sansa craned her neck and saw Joffrey and everyone else making their way to the golf course. Oh no, please let them not spot me, she fervently thought. But, of course, no such luck.

Joffrey turned and looked straight at her. This was the first time she was facing him after he had attacked her. But he was stopped in time, wasn’t he?  Nothing happened. He didn’t even get a chance to touch you, she thought to herself. Nothing happened. Nothing happened.

“Look who we have here! Everyone, it’s the whore of winterfell.”

Joffrey made to move towards her, while everyone, all her friends, stood behind him and laughed. He kept advancing on her, saying disgusting things, till all she could do was drop the racquet and run in the opposite direction.

Weak.

She felt so weak.

_And scared._

She had reached the foyer, when she stopped for breath.  

“Sansa.”

She felt someone grab her arm, and turned around to see Jaime Lannister.

“Sir Jaime Lannister.”

“Why are you running about? I have been looking for you.”

She didn’t say anything; she had nothing to say to him.

“Look, I want to make sure you don’t tell anyone about..certain events. You know how close your father and the King are; it wouldn’t do to sour relations just because of, well, something that didn’t even happen.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“Good, because it’s not like you have any evidence, and once again, nothing happened.”

“But you saw it. You were there. Isn’t that evidence enough?”

He had the decency to soften his expression, before continuing, “Yes, but I stopped them in time, before they could, you know..”

“Rape me?” she said in a small voice.

“I told you this then, and I am telling you again now, nothing happened, so don’t keep thinking of what could have happened. Because it didn’t. So it would be best for everyone involved if you don’t tell anyone about it.”

“You have nothing to worry about. I wasn’t planning on telling anyone.” Sansa made to walk away, but then turned back to him and said, “You know, I honestly thought at least at some point you were gonna ask me if I was alright. You are the only one who even knows.”

Jaime Lannister looked like he was about to say something, but then he just glanced sideways, and she saw the Queen standing at a little distance, looking out of the window that overlooked the golf course, and Sansa knew that he spoke no words of his own.

*

Because she couldn’t face her friends or her family, Sansa finally decided to go to Riverrun. The housekeeper allowed her inside, and shortly her uncle came to greet her.

 “Sansa! It’s good to see you here. You should have stopped by yesterday, Roslin just left.”

“So she isn’t gonna be around then?” Sansa asked, feeling disappointed, she got along really well with her uncle’s young girlfriend.

“Her father wanted to see her. She should be back next week. You know she doesn’t like it at The Twins.”

Of course, she didn’t, Sansa thought. Poor Roslin, her father was horrible (he looked just like Filch from the Harry Potter movies, and Sansa suspected, he was just as nasty), and he had married half a dozen times, and so Roslin had a zillion siblings.

“Uncle Edmure, I wanted to ask you for a favour.”

“Of course, what is it?”

Sansa looked at her feet as she asked him if she could live at Riverrun for a while.

“Is there some renovation going on at Winterfell?” he asked, looking confused.

Sansa opened her mouth to lie and make up some excuse but she couldn’t think of anything. _I am done with lies._ She considered just leaving without answering, running away. But she had nowhere to go, and so instead, she just broke down and started crying.

“Oh Sansa, don’t cry. What is it? Did something happen? I know your parents are out of the country. Did you have a fight with your siblings?” He asked, looking extremely uncomfortable.

When she didn’t answer, he put his arm around her, and let her cry for a while, before saying that she was free to live with him as long as she wanted.

*

Sansa had settled into the guest bedroom, and was curled up in bed, still sobbing and wondering how in the world would she move on from here, when the door opened and her brother entered. Looking at him, standing there, all composed, and strong and mature made her cry harder.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, feeling embarrassed at him having seen her in this state.

“Edmure called me. Not to take you away, but he was just worried.”

Sansa buried her head in the pillow, trying to muffle her sobs.

“What happened to you?”

_I can’t tell you, even if I wanted._

“You know with mother and father away, I am the head of the house. You are my responsibility. I can’t look after you if you won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

 “I am never coming back,” she mumbled into her pillow.

Robb sat down on the bed beside her.

“Arya, Bran and Rickon are waiting downstairs. You are gonna get up, and join us for dinner. We are going out. Anywhere you want. And we can have lemoncakes for deserts.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“It’s not an option. Okay, how about this, you don’t have to come back home with us after dinner, you can stay here for 2 days, and then come back before our parents do. Does that sound okay?”

“I guess,” she sighed. She had almost forgotten that her mother and father would be back so soon. It wouldn’t be fair to worry them.

“Come on then, let’s go.” He said, standing up and waiting at the door, looking at her expectantly.

She reluctantly got up.

 “Why do you keep wearing that huge sweater? Don’t you feel hot under it?”

“It’s a cold summer.”

“Don’t let father hear you say that.”

Sansa laughed lightly at that, and slipped her hand into his, just like she used to when she was little.

She actually had a good time at dinner. Arya was on her best behaviour and Rickon and Bran were precious as always. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad after all. Maybe falling out with her friends would actually pave the way for her to get to know her family better. And she had an interesting proposition to consider. And at any rate, at least things couldn’t get any worse.

*

Sansa was back in the guest bedroom, reading Anna Karenina way past midnight when her phone rang.

 A text:

**Open your window. I am right below.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and let me know your thoughts so far. :)


	3. Chapter 3

Sansa dropped the phone in a panic, and rushed to the window. For a millisecond she foolishly thought it was Jon before she realised the text was from an unknown number. And why would Jon come here this late, anyway? Why would anyone? She pushed apart the curtains and peered out of the French windows. She couldn’t see anyone, so relieved she pulled back the curtains and headed back inside. Maybe it had been a stupid prank. How would anyone even know that she was at Riverrun?

Sansa went back to the book, but she found herself distracted and so she decided instead to call it a night. Barely two minutes later, she heard loud thumping on her window. Now truly frightened, she opened the window with a shivering hand, and just narrowly missed a stone that pelted straight into the room. Her stomach dropped when she saw who was standing below her window, still in the act of throwing a new pebble.

“Stop! What are you doing here?”

“Didn’t you get my message? Come down.”

Jaime Lannister looked almost annoyed as he dropped the remaining stones that he had clutched in his palm.

“How did you get my number?”

“Really? I didn’t come all the way here to have a conversation with you standing under your window. Just come down.”

“Why would I do that!? Look, I told you I won’t tell anyone!”

“What? That’s not why I am here,” he said, now definitely looking annoyed.

“Well, then…?”

“Just come down, alright.”

“No, it’s not alright. How do I know you are not just here to conveniently get rid of me?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Well, you could totally be kidnapping me to keep my mouth shut, maybe finish me off, or...” Sansa trailed off, fearing she was just giving him more ideas. Her heart was at her throat now, and she felt she could hear it beat.

“Look, you can have such ridiculous notions, but I didn’t come all the way here, bribed the guards into letting me enter at this time, to just-“

“WHAT,” her voice rose shrilly, “the Riverrun guards would never succumb to such a corrupt and disgusting practice as bribery." The guards were supposed to keep them safe. That was their duty. Sansa could scarcely believe their loyalty could be just bought off with some money.

“You really are Ned Stark’s daughter, aren’t you?” said Jaime, a smirk dancing around his face.

“I am only going to take that as a compliment.”

“So listen, I saved you, didn’t I?”

“Excuse me?”

“I rescued you that day.”

She didn’t say anything. _What did he want from her?_

“I think you should trust me, and I think you know I am not like Joffrey, even if we are related. And I won’t hurt you.”

Sansa sighed. He was right. He had saved her, and she hadn’t even thanked him.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, I’ll just jump down, but catch me, alright,” she told him, still feeling a little uncertain but bravely climbing over the ledge and perching on it, her legs dangling outside the window.

“It’s just a floor!”

He was right, of course, but Sansa couldn’t risk falling too hard, and breaking her bones, she would then get caught with the Kingslayer in the middle of the night, and goodness knows, her father disliked this man.

“Just catch me.” She jumped down, shutting her eyes, and was thankful when he did catch her, though his hands had run up her waist as her feet crashed into the ground, and her thin t-shirt had got bunched up around them. Suddenly, self-conscious, she stepped away, pulling her t-shirt down.

“You didn’t have those marks in the morning,” he said, staring at her.

Sansa realised, resignedly, that she had forgotten her trusty sweater.

“I used make-up,” she said simply, not looking at him, digging her hands into the pocket of her shorts, and coming up with some red licorice. She offered him one mutely, but he just shook his head.

“Sooo, what very important thing did you want to talk about?”

“Uh.”

For the first time in her life Sansa saw Jaime Lannister look a little uncertain, as he cleared his throat and stared out into the distance. If anything, seeing his cocksure attitude disappear made Sansa feel more confident, and less afraid.

“That’s a nice view. I used to come here a lot when I was younger. Say, is your great-uncle still here? Haven’t met him in a while.”

Sansa stared at him in shock.                      

“You come here, in the middle of the night, trick the guards into letting you in, throw rocks at my window, disturb my sleep, force me to jump out of the window and have this clandestine meeting with you, and THEN YOU TALK ABOUT THE VIEW!?!?!  What is wrong with you!?”

“I came to ask you if you are fine. That’s it. You said I was the only one who knew, and I just wanted to check if you are okay. My God, it was obviously a stupid idea. And here I am, trying to do something nice, and of course, you ask me what is wrong with me,” he gave a short, strange laugh at the end.

Sansa looked at him, feeling thoroughly confused, and he was still staring out at the river, now ink black.

“You are right, it was a stupid idea. But I appreciate it all the same,” she said, in a small voice.

Jaime turned and looked at her then, his expression unreadable, and Sansa couldn’t help but notice how eerily he seemed to resemble his nephew, with the same blonde hair. He looked far better than Joffrey though, she noted, as she wearily sat down on a stone bench and peeled her red licorice strand one by one.

“And I didn’t trick those guards; they were more than happy when I showed them the money.”

“How did you know I was here anyway?” Sansa asked, ignoring the comment about the guards.

“I tracked your phone,” he said, smiling cockily at her.

“Of course you did,” she said, leaning back on the bench and staring at the night sky. There were so many stars. It would have been so romantic if she was here with someone else. Nevertheless, Sansa wasn’t an angry person (sweet-tempered, her mother called her) and she found it hard to remain antagonistic towards him. He had saved her, and he was here now. She patted the seat next to her, and he sat there.

“So where were we? Oh yes, the venality of your dear uncle’s loyal men.”

*

Today is the day, Sansa thought staring at herself in the mirror. Her parents were coming back and so she had to leave the blissful comfort of solitude behind and venture out into real life again. She stared back at her reflection, giving it a critical eye over. She had to make everyone believe that things were fine. And the most important step towards it would be appearing fine. Calm and collected and unperturbed by anything. She had handpicked the beige sleeveless silk shirt, with pearls on the collars, and a barn red lace skirt. She sighed a little, already tired of the facade, though it hadn’t even really begun yet. Was this why speaking with Jaime Lannister had been so comforting the other night? Because at least with him she didn’t have to give the false appearance of cheer and general well-being.

She was interrupted from her own thoughts when the phone rang. It was Margaery. Well, she couldn’t avoid her forever, Sansa thought as she answered the call, might as well get done with it.

“Hello.” “Yeah.” “Are you angry with me?” Sansa had indeed felt betrayed and harboured some anger at Margaery but just talking to her now, she felt her anger ebb away, and it was replaced by concern. “Look Margaery, I know you are dating him now, and it’s really not my place to say anything, but you shouldn’t. He is not..he is not a nice person,” Sansa’s voice broke and her cheeks dampened, “he  is a monster.” Sansa hesitated for a while, when Margaery went silent on the other end. She took a deep breath, suddenly she wasn’t crying anymore. “You know, don’t you? And that didn’t even fucking stop you.”

“Look, I can’t afford to get all sentimental about things like this. You know I always wanted to be associated with the royal family, and he is finally single. This is my chance. The Tyrells might be rich, but we have always been given grief for being new money, a relationship with the prince is my chance to get my family some leverage.”

Sansa just cut the phone at that. What could she say to something like that? She had not only lost her boyfriend, but also her best friend. She just had to accept that and move on. Or, or or or, maybe leave the country, and go to Paris or someplace? That would be so romantic. If only there was someone to run away with her….

Sansa climbed down to the kitchen, the sleepy house still silent, and started preparing her breakfast. She had turned vegan a few years back, but now nibbling on the Tempeh slices and sipping the disgusting kale smoothie, just felt pointless, and aggravated her gloom. In a fit of madness, two minutes later, she found herself watching bacon curl up on the pan. She flipped them over, and watched her half a decade long resistance burn away. She was eating the bacon directly from the pan when Jon entered the kitchen.  “Don’t tell anyone,” she said, putting the pan away. Suddenly she was repulsed with the thin strips of meat, with herself for succumbing to them, and she felt a rush of anger at him. Why did he have to catch her at her weakest?

“I won’t. You don’t have to stop because of me.”

She looked at him, standing there, looking all sleepy and innocent. How dare he?

“Well, it’s too late for that,” she said, crossing her hands over her chest, and striking a defensive posture.

He probably detected the enmity she was trying to radiate towards him, because he adopted an apologetic look as he came towards her.

“I am sorry about that day. I lost my head back then, I regret it more than you can imagine.”

Could he be more insulting? “Gee, thanks,” she said, “I should apologize for providing you with such an unsatisfactory experience.”

“Sansa, come on, that’s not what I meant!”

But she turned away from him. _Maybe I should drink some milk._ Jon came and stood next to her as she poured some milk in a glass.

“I should have treated you with more respect,” he said, with such sincerity, that Sansa could feel herself softening. Of course, that’s what was bothering him. It was so typically Jon. She bit her lip, trying to concentrate on the milk and not him. She didn’t want to forgive him just yet.

“You don’t have to apologize for that. It doesn’t even matter, it was harmless debauchery. What I am never gonna forgive you for is calling me an airhead.”

He probably had not expected her to be so blunt about it because for a while he didn’t say anything, just stared at his feet. He probably didn’t even realise how pathetic that had made her feel, how insecure she felt about herself already, how many times Joffrey had called her stupid back when they were oh-so-in-love. His silence just made her angrier.

“Yeah, seriously, how dare you call me an airhead?! I get straights As, you know? Except for math, I mean, but that doesn’t even count because it’s a vile subject!”

Still nothing.

“Wow, you are an asshole, you know that?” She could feel the onslaught of emotions, and after all that crying, had become quite an expert at detecting its occurrence. She started to walk up to her room, before the damn tears betrayed her once again.

Jon was following her, mumbling what he probably thought were apologies. He finally reached out and caught her hand.

“Just let it go, okay? Please. I didn’t mean it.”

“But I know you did, Jon. I know you. You actually believe you are better than everyone else, don’t you? You with your little band, and your torn jeans, and your PBRs and your crappy fucking music which to be honest just sounds like a whole lot of complaining. And while we are at it, what kind of a band name is Night’s Watch? Pretentious much? Who do you think you are!”

“Wow. That was harsh,” he said, dropping her hand. “And if you must know the truth, I was never questioning your intelligence. I simply meant that you could be a little shallow at times.”

“Shallow.”

“Yeah, and you are also slightly superficial.”

“Oh I am the superficial one? YOUR GLASSES ARE NOT EVEN FUCKING PRESCRIPTION,” she screamed, so loudly that her parents and siblings opened their door and rushed out to check the source of the commotion.

Sansa just huffed a little and ran to her room, shutting the door behind her angrily before collapsing on her bed. Her behaviour had been completely unladylike, but for once, she didn’t even give a fuck.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the indecisiveness that cripples my real life has seeped into fanfic writing too, which is my excuse for the late update. I first wrote this chapter from Jaime's POV. It had the part with Sansa, and later scenes with Cersei and Tywin each. But then I went crazy and deleted it and wrote this instead. Next POV will be Jon.


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